Always Something There
by brndjms
Summary: I just found this one on my laptop-I'd compleatly forgotten I wrote it. uh... Jack gets deathly ill and aid comes in a surprising form. J/S established


Chapter one

"Don't suppose any of you know why we're here?" Daniel questioned as he read one of the numerous reports he'd brought with him.

The simple answer echoed across the briefing table, "Nope."

"Sorry to keep you waiting," General Landry mumbled as he stumbled out of his office. "I spent the last hour arguing with Jack about the time of his flight."

"But he's coming, right?" Daniel set down the report for the first time since he'd arrived.

"Yes he'll be here. Now down to business…SG-4 was recently exploring a planet and the locals are an odd bunch. Apparently, they are the closest thing to a Celtic culture we've ever found."

"Wow, that's amazing! We have found bits and pieces that have illuminated Celtic culture but never anyone to explain them."

"Yes Doctor Jackson, it's incredible. I imagine most of you want to know why you're here. Well, its simple…this Celtic society introduced itself as the Furlings."

They erupted into a state of chatter.

_SG-1, you have a go. _The general said over the intercom. Still, they did not move. After checking his watch and sighing, Cam marched up the ramp and stuck his hand in the open worm-hole.

After many minutes of suspense, a yell came from the corridor outside. "Sorry I'm late," he marched into the gate room. "So, how you kids doing?" He pulled his ragged green baseball hat out from his pocket and put it on. "Alright," he took a deep breath, "SG-1 move out."

In pairs, they entered the gate. After being molecularly disintegrated, then reintegrated, they arrived on P8X-924. As usual, the landscape was filled with trees and hills. "So general," Sam moved so she walked next to him.

"Colonel," he replied.

"Still like flying that desk of yours?"

Jack shrugged, "It's nothing like trading planets twice a week. Even worse, you're on the opposite side of the country or in another galaxy most of the time."

Sam giggled, "Well General, if you'd just marry me already…"

He nodded, "I know. And, I promise to someday make an honest woman out of you."

Four klicks later, they stopped and made camp. After pitching tents, they gathered around the campfire. MREs were passed around. "Hey," Jack yelled. "That is mine you little bastard." He reached across Sam and grabbed the Pot Roast MRE out of Daniel's lap.

An hour and a half later, Jack was taking first watch and everyone else was sound asleep in their tent. In the distance, a twig snapped. The hunter who stepped on it moved toward the camp, he stopped at the outer edge.

He came into Jack's range of sight. Knowing this, he placed his bow and arrow on the ground and stepped forward with his hands up. "Your kin came to my village. I am Patrick; it is my pleasure to be welcome you."

Jack's mouth hung open. "Kids, get up." Quickly, they left their tents. "This," Jack pointed, "is Patrick. He says be welcome."

"That's great. Patrick, can you take us to your village." Daniel beamed with excitement.

"Ah," Vala interrupted. "Not until after breakfast." The men glared at her. "Fine," she bent down and picked up her bag.

Following her cue, everyone packed up and they departed. As Patrick did not speak English very fluently, there was not much conversation. Before them appeared a highly industrialized village. Huts lined the main road through the village-the huts were made of steel panels and cobble stones paved the road.

"Damn," Cam turned to view the entire village. Patrick skipped the 5 cent tour and led them into the most elaborate of the huts.

"This be the…I believe you say, town hall." Patrick stuttered. In the middle of the floor sat an older man. "Meet our Druid."

"Right," Daniel exclaimed, "The Druid is the leader of the village, he's also the person who the gods speak to."

"You ar…are correct." He stayed seated but motioned for them to join. "We a…re a sim…p…le people but you…your culture in…treags us."

"Good," Jack spoke. "The Asguard wouldn't tell us anything about you. We assume that you built the crystal skulls."

"Yes,"

Daniel and the Druid began conversing; discussing what ever came to mind. After the sun set again, they were given a hut which was large enough for all six of them. Seeing that there was no need to keep watch, they curled up in their sleeping bags.

In the middle of the night around o'dark thirty, Jack awoke with a full bladder. He crawled out of the hut and sauntered into the woods. Three minutes later, he was on his way back to the hut. A young woman stepped out in front of him.

"You," she spoke, "are most handsome." Jack raised his eyebrows.

"Uh…thanks." She grinned mischievously, pulled him toward her, and kissed him. He argued as her tongue tried to part his lips. As gently as possible he pushed her away from him. "I'm married," he snapped and stormed off.

Jack jumped up as a hand connected with his face. "What the hell is wrong with you?" Daniel sat next to him yelling.

He sat up and shrugged. "As if I know."

Daniel's face tightened. "We've been asked, politely as possible, to leave!"

SG-1 packed their things and hauled ass back to the gate. They faced no resistant and dialed home. General Landry met them at the end of the ramp. "I take it the meeting didn't go well." He received no answer.

Dr. Warner ran his tests and released them one by one. Jack was the first to escape the infirmary. He went straight to the lockers. Quickly, he stripped and stepped into the steaming hot shower. In minutes, he had collapsed.

"Sweetheart," Sam entered the lockers. Retrieving no reply, she continued into the showers. "Oh my god!" She kneeled next to him and checked his pulse. Then, she grabbed the phone on the wall and called for a medical team.

The med team arrived, placed Jack on a gurney and wheeled him to the infirmary. The bases' epidemiologist did tests of all types. Five long hours later, SG-1, General Landry, and Dr. Haklin (the bases' epidemiologist) sat in the briefing room.

"Obviously, this disease, whatever it may be, has mutated which makes it hard to diagnose. My professional opinion is that he somehow contracted Malaria."

"I see, can you at least tell us why General O'Neill collapsed?" General Landry said after rolling his eyes.

"Uh yes…he had a heart attack."

"Very well Dr. you can leave." After she did, Landry stood. "I know a person, top notch epidemiologist. At least one of you needs to go get her. Here's the address," he scrawled the address on a piece of paper then retreated to his office.

Daniel picked up the piece of paper. "Hey Sam,"

"Yes,"

"Why don't you come with me?"

She nodded.

Single file, they climbed up the narrow stair well five stories. "They couldn't have had an elevator?" Daniel muttered as they reached the top.

"Agreed," Sam giggled.

"What's so funny?"

"We used to be in amazing shape, now the stairs have us winded." Still leaning against the wall, they took a minute to laugh. When their breathing had returned to normal, they walked to the other end of the hall and knocked on the door of apartment _277_.

Sam winced, "Why do kids these days play their music so god-damn loud?"

Daniel nodded. "At least we aren't getting an old, anal dude."

Before them, the door swung open. "Can I help you," the young woman spoke.

"General Landry sent us," Sam yelled.

She stepped back allowing Sam and Daniel to enter. Deciding to be polite, she turned her music off. "What's Hank need?"

"One of our…"

"Colleagues," Daniel interjected.

"Thank you; he was infected with an unknown disease."

"All right," she extended her hand, "I'm Bridget."

"Daniel," he shook her hand. "And this is Sam."

Bridget looked down, examining her clothing. She wore stone washed skinny jeans and a light blue tank-top. Sam smacked the back of Daniel's head seeing where he was looking. Bridget walked into the living section of the small apartment, grabbed a dark blue sweatshirt with the Air Force logo on it and slipped on a pair of torn up Vans.

"My car or yours?" She picked up her keys off the counter and continued walking until she'd exited the apartment. Unsure what to do, they followed. Seeing the unmarked SUV, Bridget sighed and slid in the back seat next to Sam.

Returning to base only took half an hour since it was not rush hour. After checking in with security, they got into the second elevator and rode it down to sub-level 25. Knowing that there would be no one in the briefing room, they walked down the hallway and seated themselves around the long table. On the table sat a nondisclosure form.

Bridget sat in the seat directly to the right of the "General's" chair. She flipped open the manila folder, one the first page was a hand-written note. _Bridget, it's been a while since we've talked, I'm sorry. Your expertise is needed. One of my officers returned from a planet early this morning and collapsed a few hours later in the shower. Our epidemiologist thinks he has malaria even though heart attacks are not usual symptoms. Please sign this so I can put you straight to work._ Hank

Following the orders of the note, she signed the agreement. "If I understand correctly, all either of you need to do is point me in the direction of the infirmary."

Silent again, Sam nodded and led the way to the infirmary. They stopped once they reached Jack, Landry sat next to him. "Bridget, how are you?" He stood.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" She yelled at him. "You couldn't have thought to mention that the patient is my pain in the ass big brother?"

The next morning, SG-1, Landry, Bridget and doctor Haklin sat around the briefing table. "So…your doctor's an idiot and…" she was interrupted by Landry's laughing. She rolled her eyes, "As I was saying, I may not be an expert on the specifics of this one it is fairly easy to diagnose."

"Oh really," Haklin quipped.

"Yes really. If you knew what the hell you were doing, you'd have ordered a full body MRI, taken one look at it and known it was a new strain of e-bola."

"E-bola is not that easy to diagnose," she argued.

"It is when your surrogate mother specialized in said disease." Silence echoed across the table.

Daniel's eyebrows rose. "Could she provide the expertise we need?"

Bridget shrugged, "She could probably identify the differences in this strain. The problem is finding a cure-we've been working on one but it hasn't reached the test stage yet. Even with that though, the differences in the strains will complicate finding a cure."

Landry stood. "May I assume this woman is a civilian?"

"Yes but Jack's not going to like it." He nodded and marched into his office.

"So where do we pick this woman up?" Sam inquired.

Bridget smirked as she stood. "No offense Colonel but things will not go well if any of you join me." On her way out the door, she yelled over her shoulder. "I'll be stopping by Starbucks, any of you not coffee drinkers?" She received no replies.

Sighing, she stepped out of the generic looking SUV. The look of the house had not changed, _been the same for 13 years_ the realization made her frown. Quickly, she bounded up the stairs and knocked on the front door.

Ten minutes later, she rang the doorbell a few times. Hearing no movement on the other side of the door, she gave up and walked around the side of the house. After searching for a moment, she found the window. It was small, only about half the size of a normal window, and the frame was old. Bringing herself parallel to the window she moved her weight on to her front foot and leaned against the frame. _Better built than I thought._ She pushed against the frame with the bulk of her weight.

In seconds, the frame broke. She pulled it out of the wall and gently laid it against the side of the house. Wincing, she crawled through the opening. With a thud, she landed on the concrete floor. The sound of feet on concrete came, a middle aged woman ran in.

"Bridget," she helped her to her feet. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Sara, if you'd be kind enough to leave a spare key lying around I wouldn't have to break in."

"Fine, so why are you here?"

"Well…"

"Bridget please,"

"We may have found a new strain of e-bola and would appreciate your help."

"Hell yes!" They scurried to the main level, Sara grabbed her purse and they drove off in Bridget's SUV. On the way to the mountain, they stopped at Starbucks and ordered seven coffees.

Laughing over a stupid joke which was better not repeated, they entered the briefing room. Sara sat in one of the chairs while Bridget delivered Landry his coffee. He paged SG-1 then joined the ladies at the table. SG-1 came running in and filled the seats.

"You," Daniel pointed to Sara, "look awfully familiar."

"Well, I don't think we've met before."

Bridget interrupted. "Jack's the patient." Silence once again filled the room.

She nodded. "You have test results?"

Landry interrupted. "First I need you to sign a nondisclosure agreement." He slid it across the table. Swiftly, she signed.

"Let's get to work."


End file.
